The Boy with the Purple Eyes
by ninjatomomi
Summary: Gilbert, a veteran homicide detective, is put on the case of a kidnapping. As the case moves on, more and more is revealed surrounding the victim, entrancing Gilbert. He soon becomes obsessed with the boy he was sent to find, the boy with the purple eyes.
1. March 11, 1973

The Boy with the Purple Eyes

**[April 14, 2011] Hi there! So, I'm going through this story and fixing/editing it as I go along. I'll be replacing the older chapters with the newer edited ones so that the story can remain up. As of right now, only this chapter has been edited. I'm hoping to fix up this story along with all my other older ones so that they won't be so crappy. **

**Constructive criticism is very much appreciated!  
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_March 11, 1973_

Well, my brother suggested that I start this thing. He said that it would help me cope with all the cases that I've done. I honestly don't think that it'll help at all. Some of them are just too ingrained in my brain, but I guess I could try.

I might as well introduce myself. The name's Gilbert Beilschmidt and I'm the most awesome man alive. Really, I am. I'm the head detective in this city and I solve murders for a career. It's an ok job I guess. The way I see it, someone has to do it anyway so why not the most awesome man on the planet? Anyway, with this whole journal thing…I guess I'm supposed to write about the murders I've experienced so that I won't be so caught up on them. Honestly though, I think Ludwig's afraid that all the death and gore will eventually affect my mentality and make me go crazy or something like that…Whatever. I'm invincible so no amount of gore or death can make me lose my marbles. Anyhow, on to the murders.

Let see… ah! The murder that happened just last week. A woman called the station saying that her husband had been murdered with an ax. When we arrived at the scene, we all noticed the condition of the deceased. He was cut in half across his midsection if I remember correctly and was sprawled out across their living room floor.

That morning, I went with my brother to the house where it happened. He's the chief of this city's police department, in case I haven't mentioned it before. Anyway, we both headed out there and found the wife all hysterical and the like. She was acting kind of suspicious when we arrived. Her crying looked forced and the report she gave one of the onsite officers didn't match up with the one she gave to our telephone operators. When I noticed that, I got a hunch that she did it and I mentally placed her on the top for suspects of this crime. My hunch was only heightened when I took one good look at the crime scene and could tell that it was staged. From the looks of it, _she_ committed the murder and set it up so that it looked like someone else had trashed her house and killed her husband. I quickly told this to my brother and he took her in for questioning. She was arrested later that day for murdering her husband to get the insurance money. Score as of now, me 101, (not literally of course. I've had way more cases than that) murderers and the like 0. I'm just so awesome.

There is nothing that I can't solve. In all my years of being a detective I've found one thing that all murderers have in common with each other: They're greedy as hell. Every murderer I've been against, greed was their motivation. Anything for the green to fill their bottomless pockets.

But enough with this conclusion of mine, I've got something better to say. I started a new case today, a very special case. When I walked in through the door of the office today, at six pm after a quick break, there was my brother, a new case file in hand. I took the file and opened it, itching to start a new one, only this time I was a little disappointed. It was a kidnapping. Normally I don't do kidnappings but my brother thought that I needed a break from homicide for once. I was pissed but he said that it would give me a challenge. I laughed in his face. Give me a challenge? Please, I've taken down some of the worst criminals in the city. A kidnapping would be nothing. Like I said, there's nothing I can't solve. A simple kidnapping would be a walk in the park.

Lets see…the victim was a young ten year old boy. From what I saw from the case picture he's blonde, pale, small for his age, wears glasses, and has a twin brother. Interesting. From the report, he and his brother were supposed to walk home after school. However, the other twin had decided to stay for a game of baseball, thus forcing his twin to walk home alone. The boy got home around five pm yet his brother, the victim, had not made it back…And that's the end of the notes. Given the information, it doesn't even sound like his is a kidnapping at all. I mean he could have just run off or something.

I set up a meeting with the family tomorrow so maybe it'll shed some light on what happened. Like I said earlier, this case will be done soon enough as there's nothing I, the great and awesome Gilbert, can't solve. Besides, murders are much harder than this will ever be.

~Gilbert the Awesome


	2. March 12, 1973

The Boy with the Purple Eyes

_March 12, 1973_

I met with the boy's family today. His parents, Arthur Kirkland and Francis Bonnefoy, startled me. I've never seen a gay couple before today. I have to say that it didn't bother me unlike some people. They introduced me the victim's twin brother, Alfred. Let me tell you, he was one hell of a hyperactive kid, always craving for attention from one of the parents. Crying, throwing tantrums, yelling. I've never seen a kid so spoiled and needy. I wonder if the victim was like his brother…

When I arrived at their house, Arthur was the one to open the door. Mein Gott! That man had the biggest eyebrows I have ever seen! It was like a set of caterpillars had suddenly died on his face and were forever stuck there! Anyway, I walked with him, he was a bit shorter than me if I recall, to a coffee table in front of the couch. There, I was introduced to Francis Bonnefoy, Arthur's partner. He was French, had the accent too, and had bright blue eyes. He was also taller than Arthur and had a certain charm around him. They also introduced Alfred. Besides being hyperactive and demanding, he was a cute kid. Apparently, he's good at sports because the kid wouldn't stop telling me about how he had a bunch of trophies and was the best one on his teams. Arthur shushed his son up while Francis showed me a picture of the missing boy, Matthew. The picture was a front shot of the boy with his head facing left, gazing at some unknown thing. His hand was brought up and had his fingers under his lower lip. It was a stunning picture, really.

I think that the thing that made the picture so eye catching was the boy. Let me tell you, that boy was beautiful. He did have pale skin like my brother said, but it fit him. His light blond hair shone like sunrays on a summer day. Perhaps, though, the thing that disturbed me the most about the boy were his eyes. They were an entrancing shade of violet I had never seen before. I'm one to talk though, who's seen somebody with ruby eyes like mine? Anyway, back to his eyes. Other than the color, his eyes were strange. Unlike most boys his age, Matthew's eyes were hollow and empty. There was nothing there, no life, no happiness, just emptiness. It was like he was an empty shell…almost like his soul had just up and left his body. What's left are just the remnants of what really used to exist. Did his parents not notice how hollow the boy looked? Apparently not, judging on the way Francis looked lovingly at the picture after I was done with it. I asked him for one that I could use while I looked for the boy. He nodded his head and went to some back room to get me an extra copy.

I then turned to talk to Mr. Kirkland, only to see him distracted with his other son Alfred. I watched the two interact. I could tell that he held a special bond with Alfred just by the way he was smiling and playing with him. That was not the way to act if your other son had just been kidnapped the day before. Alfred was clearly Arthur's favorite. I would have to guess that Francis favored Matthew, since all of Arthur's attention was already claimed. Francis walked in a little later after I finished my internal assessment of Arthur. He gave me the same picture he had showed me saying that he couldn't find a better one. When we were all settled, I decided to ask about what had happened yesterday.

When I asked, Arthur shrugged, telling me to ask Alfred. He was, after all, the last to see Matthew. I turned to the little boy and asked what had happened. He said that he and his brother walked together to and from school everyday. Yesterday, he told me, he wanted to stay at school for an intense baseball game that some of the other boys were playing. He wanted to "be the hero" and win the game for his team. When his brother came to him, ready to walk home, Alfred said that he told his brother that he was staying. The two agreed that Matthew would walk home by himself and when Arthur got home, he would inform him of where Alfred was. That was it. There was nothing else the boy could tell me, or was there… I turned back to the parents and asked them what the route was that the boys take to get to school. Francis replied that the boys would exit the house and turn right going all the way down 5th avenue, the street that they lived on. At the intersection of 5th and Lemon, they would cross and continue going straight until the next intersection a few streets down. There, at 5th and Cherry, they would once again cross the street but this time, they would turn right and walk down to the elementary school. This whole journey would take the boys ten to fifteen minutes.

I thanked the family for the information, saying that I was on the case and that Matthew will be returned home safe and sound. As I was exiting the house, I felt a tugging at my coat. Looking down, I saw that Alfred looking up at me. He told me, and I quote, "Mister, my brother had his white bear with him yesterday. I don't know why but he took it to school with him and had it in his arms when he left the campus yesterday." I stared at him dumbfounded. This kid had the beginning of a lead in his hands. I smiled at him and ruffled his hair and told him thanks. He smiled back and said "Please find my brother!" I gave him a wave of acknowledgmentment, as I left the house, walking down the path the two boys would walk every day, ready to look for clues that would lead me to the location of the missing boy.


	3. March 12, 1973 continued

The Boy with the Purple Eyes

_March 12, 1973 continued..._

I followed the route, imagining Matthew walking to school with his brother, bear in hand. Speaking of the bear, why would he take a stuffed bear to school? I mean he is ten but still, normal kids don't take stuffed animals to school. Alfred said that the bear was white and since neither Matthew as well as his stuff made it home, that means that the bear could be somewhere on the streets. I just had to look for something white that resembled a bear.

As I walked the path, I searched the streets and sidewalks. I had no clues until I made it to the intersection at 5th and Cherry. There, laying in the dirt of the sidewalk, was a dirty, white bear. At least that was what it looked like from where I was standing across the street. I jammed my thumb into the button for the crosswalk light at least ten times wanting it to change faster. As soon as the light changed I ran across the intersection to where the bear lay.

When I got there, I examined the scene around the bear. Nothing would indicate that there was a possible kidnapping right where it was. Absolutely nothing. If some average person were to walk by they would think that the bear was just a toy that someone had lost. I picked it up and looked at it top to bottom, brushing off the loose dirt. There was indication of wear all over it and you could tell that the plush was well loved. Almost all of the stuffing was squeezed out of the middle, so much that it was flat. The hair was also not as white as it could have been but it did belong to a ten year old boy, so you can't really expect it to be spotless. Once again, I looked around the crime scene. This time, I noticed the security cameras placed on the lights in the intersection. Some of them looked right at the corner that I was standing on and I began to wonder if I would be able to get the footage of the previous day.

After I had made the discovery of the bear and the cameras, I walked back to the police station. From the intersection, it wasn't that far, which surprised me. Anyway, I went straight to my brother's office and told him what I found. One phone call and twenty minutes later, I had the video footage that I wanted. I excitedly ran to my office, stealing the only video player in the whole police office while I went.

Once inside I closed the door and attached the player to my little TV. I popped one of the tapes in and made myself comfortable in my plushy chair. When the video first started, I noticed that it was the camera from across the street and it didn't look at the scene. I took out that one and put in another. This time, the point of view was from another camera that looked right at the point I needed. Excited, I began to watch the film. I then realized that the time printed on the top left corner of the screen said 9 am, so I pushed the fast forward button. The events of yesterday flew by, the people moving in fast motion until I saw him enter from the right hand of the screen. I quickly pressed the play button and watched as the little figure moved across the screen until he stopped and waited at the cross walk for the light to change. It was then when I saw the little figure lower his head to look at his bear. When the light did change he didn't notice. It was then, when a small black car entered the scene from the bottom of the screen and made its way across the intersection. Suddenly, it stopped by the sidewalk right next to Matthew. A tall man came out of the driver's seat, ran over to Matthew, and grabbed him from behind. The little boy thrashed about, but only succeeded in losing his grip on the bear. I saw it fall as the boy was dragged off into the small black car. Then as quickly as it appeared, the little black car sped off in the direction it was facing with Matthew inside.

My first reaction, to tell you the truth, was appallment. How could someone not notice that he was in trouble?! It was freaking two thirty in the afternoon! The school had just gotten out! How could no one notice?! Was he that invisible? Did no one even care that the boy was being kidnapped?! I slammed my hand onto the desk in anger. I've dealt with those who kill but this! This was something totally foreign. Why would someone want to kidnap a little, innocent boy?! Why!? I don't understand…And I don't think that I'll be able to…

After I took a few minutes to reel in my emotions and calm down, I turned off my TV and VCR and exited the room. I felt that I needed to take a break, I needed to break away from this case. My brother, noticing my distress came over and grabbed my shoulder. He asked what was wrong and I told him everything, well excluding the parts where I lost my emotions. He gave me the look, where I could tell that he didn't believe me, so I took him back into my office and showed him everything. By the end, my brother was happy. Happy that I had found new evidence and a new lead in the case. I felt that the only thing that he cared about was the fact that we could finish quickly. He showed no pain, or any feeling as a matter of fact, that would indicate that he felt that confusion and anger that I had after watching the video.

I dismissed myself from the room, feeling sick to my stomach, grabbed the white bear that was sitting on the desk, and went home. When I got home I saw that it was 7 pm. I didn't feel like eating even though I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. I went and took a nice warm shower, hoping that it would ease my ill feelings. As I let the warm water cascade around me, I kept seeing Matthew's picture in my mind. The sad and hollow eyes, the look of depression on his face, it haunts me. I got out of the shower, dried off and put on my night pants. I brushed my teeth and went back to the kitchen to pick up the white bear. I took the bear back with me to the room and sat on the bed with it. It's still here next to me but I keep getting eraser shavings on it when I erase things on this entry. I'll brush it off after I finish. Anyway, I think that I'll take it back to Matthew's family tomorrow.

After today's events, I can't help but feel ill with everything. Finding the video evidence, the bear, meeting the family… I feel so pressured to find him, alive, wherever he is. It's a scary new feeling. I've never felt this kind of pressure. Every minute that goes by, I feel like it gets harder and harder to solve this case, and the pressure! It just keeps building and building. I feel like I'm going to explode. I don't think that I'll be able to do it, solve the case that is, but I have to. For Arthur and Francis, for Alfred, and especially for Matthew…I have to bring him back no matter what. I have to.

~The still Awesome Me

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**Oh my Goodness! I can't believe how popular this story is! I came and looked at the hits chart and I was so shocked at how many people have read it! I'm so happy! Thank you everyone for the reviews! I'm so sorry that I haven't been able to reply to any of them, I've been so busy lately with school and everything (that's why the updates have been at like 1 am **-.-**). I've been thinking, maybe I should finish this story first since it's so popular and much shorter than my other one, **_A Secret Hidden From You_**. I'm still thinking about it but since I'm on a roll with this one, that might be the outcome**. **I'm hoping that I'll be able to keep my momentum going and that I won't disappoint you guys!  
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	4. March 13, 1973

The Boy with the Purple Eyes

**Ok so just a little thing before I start the story...the **_italics _**are for what Matthew wrote even though this is technically in Gilbert's journal.**

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_March 13, 1973_

I visited Matthew's family again today to give them back the white bear. When I arrived at the house, I knocked on the door and waited. Nobody came so I knocked again, this time louder. Finally, the door opened, and I saw Arthur's grumpy face. He was surprised to see me at his doorstep. He asked me if anything had been found that would assist in finding his lost son. I told him about the videos, what they had caught, about the black car, and lastly about the man who took his son. His reaction to the news was strange to me. His facial expression never changed. It was as if he didn't care about his son. I expected some sort reaction, anything, a cry, a look of worry, even a smile, though that might have been quite suspicious. But I got nothing. Nothing but a frown and that had been plastered on his face when he opened the door. It puzzled me and struck a nerve deep within my heart. Why doesn't his father seem to care? When I was done explaining about the new evidence, I pulled out the white bear. I told him that I had found the bear at the site of where Matthew was kidnapped and that the reason that I came today was to give the bear back. Arthur then did something that completely surprised me.

He told me that he didn't want the bear back. He said and I quote, "I don't want the bear back. You can keep him. Matthew was always talking to the thing and plus, it's filthy. What are we going to do with a dirty stuffed animal?" To say that I was shocked is an understatement. If Matthew had cherished the bear, why wouldn't you keep it? It was something that was a part of him! Why wouldn't you keep it!? I was tempted to shove it at Arthur but that wouldn't be professional. I tried to make it seem that I wasn't as troubled as I was. I asked Arthur if it was ok if I looked for anything that would aid in the investigation in Matthew's room. He said it was alright and let me inside the house.

When I stepped into the house, I saw Alfred staring at me from the couch. He greeted me and ran up to me. He asked me how the investigation was going and if he had found his brother yet. I told him that we had found some clues and that Matthew hadn't been found yet. I also told him that I was going up to Matthew's room to see if he had anything that shed some new light on the case. Alfred then grabbed my hand and dragged me up the stairs to the upper floor of the house. For some strange reason, he dragged me to his room and opened the door.

I was amazed by the contents of the room. Shelves and shelves of trophies lined the walls. There were so many trophies that they littered the floor. I have never seen so many of them in one place. I turned to look at Alfred and I asked why he had brought me here. He shrugged and led me to another room. He pointed at it and said that it was Matthew's. I looked at the door. It was the same as the other ones that lined the hallway, plain, white, and lonesome.

I opened the door, and walked inside. The room was the total opposite of Alfred's. Where Alfred's was filled with the feeling of accomplishment and the proof of it, Mathew's room was barren and empty. The walls were bare except for a bulletin board, with some papers pinned on it, on one of the walls and the desk that was placed against the opposite wall. The whole room was a plain, light shade of blue and it oozed loneliness and the feeling of being forgotten prevailed. I began my search for clues by looking in and around the desk. Inside one of the drawers was a journal. I picked it up and opened it to a random page where I saw neat, little, cursive words and letters. I decided to take the journal and analyze it to see if it will give any hints. You never know, I might find the case breaker…

I searched the room a little more and found nothing of interest as of right now. I exited the room and walked down the stairs, looking for Arthur or Alfred. I discovered them playing videogames in the living room. I waved to them even though they couldn't see me and told them thank you for letting me look in Matthew's room. Arthur paused the game and showed me to the door, saying that I could come back any time.

That family is so strange. One of their sons is kidnapped and yet instead of looking for him, two of them stay at home and play video games. I really don't understand. When I deal with people who have lost loved ones to murder they cry, they show emotion. These people, they show nothing, no emotion, not even a notion that their son is gone. It hurts me in ways that I never thought possible.

After leaving the house, I traveled back to the police station where I caught up with my brother. He had a look of disappointment on his face and it worried me. He saw me and ran up to me. When he arrived at where I stood, he gave me a serious face and asked me if I had found any new clues. I told him no but I did find the boy's journal. "Good" he told me, and then he went and explained that we had no more leads in the case.

I was astonished. "How!?" I yelled at him. We had the video proof, we had the bear, the car on tape, what more could you need? He told me that the video footage was too blurry to figure out the license plate number or the make of the car. Before that moment, I had never felt so disappointed, so useless, and hopeless. I have faced the most evil people on the planet, serial killers, spree murderers, assassins, and yet in all those cases I have never felt the emotion I have with this case. Now with every lead gone, all my hope to solve the case lies within the journal in my bag.

I told my brother that I would analyze the journal immediately and then I left to go home. When I got into the apartment that I call home, I changed into comfortable clothes and sat on the couch, journal in one hand and a notebook with a pencil in the other. I opened the journal and began to read the thoughts of a ten year old boy. These thoughts were not the thoughts that a normal ten year old would have. Those journal entries were the most painful things that I have ever read. One passage that caught my eye was this one:

"_I won an art contest. I tried to show Papa and Dad my big blue ribbon and the drawing that I did, but they ignored me for my brother. Alfred had made the baseball team that he had tried out for. He was worried that he wasn't going to make it but I knew that he would. He was better than the other boys who had tried out. When he got the letter that said that he made it, he was so excited as were Papa and Dad. I wish that they would notice my accomplishment too. I know that I should be used to my parents ignoring me but it still hurts. Just once, I would like to be able to be shown affection."_

That poor boy. Ignored by his parents in favor of his twin brother. It's no wonder that no one noticed the boy being kidnapped. It was like he was truly invisible from years of being ignored by his own family. If no one noticed him, who would? It was that moment that I silently promised the little boy that I would notice him, I would find him and give him the attention that he wanted. He wanted someone who would appreciate him and notice his accomplishments. I would fill that role since his own family couldn't. What am I thinking? I can't take care of the boy! Once I find him, I'll have to give him back to his parents. They're the ones who are technically his guardians and the cycle of being ignored will begin again. There's nothing I can do other than save him from wherever he is. Now that I think about it, is bringing him home to his family really a good decision? Is home really the heaven to the hell Matthew may be suffering now or is it reversed?

I continued to read the journal, and I stumbled upon a passage that may provide some sort of lead.

"_I think that someone is stalking me. I never see the person but I have this weird feeling that someone is watching me. Everywhere I go I get that feeling. It scares me. I also hear these strange clicking sounds sometimes when I'm walking alone. I tried to tell my parents about everything but they ignored me as usual. Instead, I told Kumajirou since he always listens to me. He can't help me though, since he's just a stuffed bear. I hope that nothing will happen in the future and that the weird stalker feeling I have is just a figment of my imagination."_

A stalker? The boy had a stalker? This was the lead I was looking for! It'll help the investigation immensely, or so I hope. The only bad thing is that I don't know how far it'll will take me. Like the video, this evidence will work well when we put the kidnapper on trial. It doesn't really help a lot right now.

When I was through with the journal, I looked at the clock. It was eleven pm. I closed the book and placed it on the coffee table. I then got up and got ready for bed, grabbing the white bear I kept, taking it with me. Before I go to sleep, I have to remember to bush the eraser shavings off of him. Kumajirou, that's what Matthew named him. I now have my own piece of the boy. Maybe he'll bring me closer to him. Hopefully he'll help me find him. I can only believe that Kumajirou will constantly remind me of him and bring me the strength to continue to endlessly search until I find him.

~Gill

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**I'm really sorry that I made Arthur and Alfred such bitches! I hope you guys don't mind. T.T So about the chapter, the pain that Gilbert feels is intensified...and so is his obsession with finding Matthew. I know how this story is going to end now and it's almost over. Maybe three or four more chapters, although I'm not so sure but the plot is all ready to be written down. Anyway, I love you guys! You keep giving me such good reviews and it's making me so happy. I can't believe how many hits I've gotten so far for this story, it's really somethin. :P As you know, please review! :D**


	5. March 14, 1973

The Boy with the Purple Eyes

**I got a question for why the story takes place in the 70's and the answer is that I had asked my friend for a random date and that's what she gave me. So if you wanted a cooler explanation, there isn't. It was just a random choice in dates. ;P I'm sorry if the story seems rushed but I didn't have a lot of time to write this chapter. I just wrote what I had and reread it so if there are any mistakes just send a review. I'll fix whatever needs to be fixed so that the story can flow better. Thanks! :)  
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_March 14, 1973_

When I woke up this morning, it was 6 am. At first, sleep still filled my brain so I slapped the snooze button and went back to sleep. Suddenly, the information from yesterday's discoveries flooded my brain. My eyes shot open and I quickly jumped out of bed. I had to tell them, my brother and the rest of the people in the investigation, of my finding within the journal. I ran, grabbing some clothes along the way off the top of the dresser, into the bathroom and had the fastest shower I had ever had. Afterwards, still running, I went to the coffee table, picking up the journal and my keys. "Shoot!" I said to myself, I had forgotten Kumajirou in the bedroom. Backtracking, I went back and grabbed him from his place on my bed, and ran to the car.

I think I broke every speed limit and driving law there is when I went to the police station. I couldn't take my foot off the pedal. I even ran through a few red lights, though I was surprised that I didn't get caught. I couldn't wait to get to work. I just had to tell my brother about the journal.

When I got there, I ran straight to my brother's office, Kumajirou and the journal in my hands. I threw open the door and told him the news. I explained how Matthew had written about having a stalker; how he felt someone was following him everywhere he went. I even showed Ludwig the passages where the information came from. When I was done, I was so tired from my excitement that I collapsed in the chair in front of his large desk. I buried my face in Kumajirou's fur, happy that we had a new lead and hopefully the answer to where Matthew was located. However, my happiness was short lived.

When I removed my face from Kumajirou's back, I noticed my brother's troubled look. He walked up from where he was sitting at his desk and walked over to where I was sitting. He put an arm around my shoulders and told me that I needed to calm down, that I was getting too wrapped up in the case. I didn't understand what he was trying to say. What did he mean that I was "too wrapped up in the case?" He looked down at the floor and then back at me. He sighed and asked me what had happened to the old Gilbert, the one who didn't let cases control his actions and warp his judgment. I still did not understand. He must have seen the confusion on my face because after that, Ludwig went to the box of evidence relating to the case that was sitting on a chair near his desk. He pulled out the videos, took the journal and the bear from me and placed them all on the desk. He instructed me to look at the items and told me to tell him what I see. "A book, the stack of video evidence, and Kumajirou," I had told him. His reply was "Exactly. There is no evidence that would point to the person who did it. No clear faces, no identities of whom we can hold responsible for the crime." I stared at him. What could he be implying? "I'm sorry," he told me. "We're closing the case. There're no leads right now and there might not be anymore. All the evidence may be used to convict someone in the future but right now they're no use to us."

"No!" I thought to myself. "He can't be closing the case! I promised! I can't go back on my promise!" I banged my hands on the table and tears of anger streamed down my face. My brother was saying something like that if no new evidence comes in the case will be moved into the cold cases but if something does come in, the investigation will continue but I wasn't listening. I still couldn't believe it. After everything, after promising Matthew, how could I just abandon the case? Still angry, I grabbed Kumajirou and ran out of the atrocious office, even out of the building. I kept running and I didn't really know where I was headed. Before I knew it I hit something incredibly sturdy. I fell back landing on my butt on a path full of gravel. Without knowing, I had run to the park that was a few streets down from the station. A hand reached down and offered to help me up. I looked at the hand, then at the person who was offering it to me.

I must have looked hideous, with my tear induced red eyes, messed up hair, and everything but the man still helped me up. This guy was huge! He had light blonde hair, a tan over coat, a childish look on his face and a long, light purplish scarf, but the thing that disturbed me the most about this guy were his eyes. They were violet, almost like Matthew's, but had a little more blue in them. So much like Matthew's in appearance…Matthew… He helped me up and asked me if I was alright, successfully breaking me out of my trance. When he spoke, I noticed that the man had a Russian accent. I picked up Kumajirou off the ground and dusted him off. When I was through, I noticed that the man had been staring at the bear. I became suspicious of the look but ignored it, thanking him for the help and also apologizing for running into him. He broke out of his intense stare and smiled at me saying that it was alright and then he left, his job done. When he was gone, I realized that I would never want to make that man angry. The stare that was on his face showed intense anger and something else, something I recognized from murderers that I had arrested. It was the emptiness and the absence of emotion that they have within their eyes. At that moment, I became scared, which was unusual. I started to head back home. I didn't feel like returning to work, with what my brother had told me.

When I got home I went straight to my bed and collapsed, with Kumajirou beneath me. Then, I began screaming into my pillow. I hit my fisted hands on the mattress and started crying for the second time today. I just couldn't hold my emotions in any longer. I feel like a failure, a worthless, stupid soul who can't even solve a kidnapping case. I failed in getting the correct evidence that could have solved this case in a nutshell. I let myself down, I let the department down, but more importantly, I let Matthew down. I had promised that I would find him and I had failed. I need to stop crying, the tears keep falling and messing up the ink on these pages, but I can't control myself any more. I'm sorry Matthew, I'm so sorry. I failed you and there's no way that I can make it up to you. I can only hope that you're still alive, still there. Though I can no longer work on the case officially, I'll never stop looking for you. Never, not even if I have to spend my entire life looking. You'll never be forgotten again.

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**Wow! Wasn't that depressing? Don't worry, the story doesn't end here, that would suck wouldn't it? You guys should be happy :D I'm supposed to be doing homework but I'm updating just for you :D Anyway, I know that it seems like I do this every time but thank you so much for all the reviews! I love you all! And the hits, can't forget those! I've got so many hits now! I know that they might not be that important but I like hits. I've become obsessed with the hits chart lately so keep reading and make me happy by increasing them! :)**

**By now I think that you guys know the drill ;P R&R!**


	6. April 27, 1973

The Boy with the Purple Eyes

**Thank God that they fixed that problem! I tried and tried to upload this chapter so many times and I kept getting the same annoying "We have a problem" message even at like 1 am. Anyway, enough with my ranting! Please enjoy this new chapter! :D**

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_April 27, 1973_

It's April now. Almost a little more than a month has gone by and no one has seen the boy. I kept looking after the office put a hold on the case, but it was no use. There was no new information, no new leads, nothing. I tried so hard to find something but to no avail. Matthew is still gone and the chance of finding him is so small. On another note, I quit my job as a detective because of this case. I just couldn't stand working in the building anymore. My job was to help people and I had ultimately failed. If I had failed Matthew, who's to say that I won't be successful the next time or the time after that and that I'll keep on falling in to the abyss that is failure? It's hard, trying to get through another day without feeling like the scum on a rock on the bottom of a dirty lake. I have no job now and I'm too depressed to do anything. My doctor keeps giving me pill after pill and I don't take them. I don't need them to help with my depression. I know what I need and it's not those pills, it's the knowledge that Matthew is safe and where he needs to be, that he is home. My brother, he wants me to come back to work. He said that he'll keep my position open just in case I want to return but I doubt that I'll ever want to go back to that worthless place, ever. Every day is like a battle, and every day I feel like I'm losing just a little bit more as time goes by.

I placed the picture of Matthew that Francis had given me, when I when to their house the day after the kidnapping, in a frame. It's sitting on a table by the entry of my apartment. I placed candles that are always lit around it. At night, the light casts a gentle glow on the picture, making Matthew look like an angel. I always carry Kumajirou with me wherever I go too. To the store when I need food, on my daily walks to the park, everywhere. I talk to him, telling him about my day even though he already knows, since he went with me. He's a constant reminder that Matthew was a real person and not some imaginary being that my mind had made up one day because of the stress I suffered from work.

Slowly, I got into a routine: wake up, eat breakfast, go to the park with Kumajirou, think about my failure and Matthew, go home, wallow some more in sorrow, watch the four p.m. news, eat a small dinner, talk to Kumajirou, get ready for bed, then cry myself to sleep, and I repeat the endless cycle of self loathing and depression the next day. How lovely everyday is when you know that you're nothing but scum.

If I recall, there was another kidnapping case two weeks after Matthew's, however, this one was a little bit more different. I remember watching the four o clock news when they said that sixteen year old Toris Lorinaitis had disappeared while walking home from school. I noted mentally the similarities between the two cases: both victims were boys, both were somewhat feminine looking (Matthew more than Toris), they had shoulder length hair, and both had been walking home **alone** when they were kidnapped. I didn't feel the same towards this boy as I did towards Matthew. Maybe it was because he was older, or perhaps it was because I could tell that Toris had friends and a good life, unlike Matthew, who was abused through his ten years before his disappearance. The TV showed another picture of the boy and I stared at it. For some reason, the image of the boy's face was burning itself a place in my brain. It was like it was a sign that I should remember this Toris kid for some event in the future…

This morning, Kumajirou and I went on our daily walk to the park. It was really windy but we walked along, like we always do, down the gravel paths. I was wearing a long coat to keep the wind out and a sweater my brother had given me for Christmas one year, underneath. It was a nice walk, everyone else was inside, trying to stay out of the wind, so the paths were free of bikes and dogs and general people. I found the bench that we normally sat on and made myself comfortable. I pulled Kumajirou out of the large inner pocket of my overcoat and looked at him straight in his shiny, black eyes. I sighed and turned him around so that he was facing the direction I was and we just sat there for at least an hour, me drowning in my sorrow while Kumajirou listened to my symphony of pain. When I was done with my self-inflicted depression, I got up from the bench and placed Kumajirou safely back into the pocket in which he came. For some odd reason today, I felt like going the long way home, through the entire park. I started to walk in the opposite direction that I came, going through the large forested park. I passed the pond where people would fish sometimes and ride those little boats that you had to petal. I passed the playgrounds and the campgrounds, to where the exit was located. It was here, in a more forested part of the park, that something caught my eye.

In a tiny clearing, hidden from view except for a tiny portion, was a person, lying on the ground. I was startled at first. Why would a person want to sleep there? His face was pointed up towards the sky as if he had collapsed and rolled over just to take one good look at the stars before he drifted off. I started to walk towards the unconscious person and slowly I realized that this was not some average Joe or homeless man. The man, I should say boy, was clad only in a pair of boxers. Bruises, scrapes, and cuts lined his body and his face was pretty beaten up. He had a black eye and I was pretty sure his nose was broken too. I was almost afraid that he was dead but I saw the slow rise and fall of his chest, which assured me that he was somewhat alive. I kept staring at him. His face was so familiar. I has seen it somewhere…but where? Then, it suddenly hit me. The boy that I was staring at was Toris Lorinaitis. Of course he looked a little different, with his face beaten up like that, but there was still some resemblance to the picture I had etched earlier in my mind.

I put my larger coat around his body and picked him up, carrying him bridal style. I decided to take him back to my apartment and then call my brother, to tell him that I solved a case that he was in dire need of help in. If only Matthew's case had been that easy…Matthew! The cases had been so identical…Maybe the same person had committed both them…It was a stretch but we had to go and arrest the guy who did this to Toris anyway, it wouldn't be too much of a hassle to look into his background. We might get lucky and find what was hidden from us from a month ago. It was then that I decided that when I call up my brother, I was going to demand my job back.

~End Part I~

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**Another chapter filled with angst and depression! Don't worry though part II will come out either later tonight or tomorrow.**

** The emotional roller coaster is just beginning so keep your hands, feet, and other parts inside the car and get ready! (I know, its a stupid analogy) All you readers are so nice! Even though I don't know who you are I love you! I'd give you cookies if I could but I can't :( I think that there are only a few chapters left of this tale. I hope that this information doesn't turn you guys all away from the story...Anyway, thank you guys for everything, reviews, faves, alerts! I'm so grateful for everything** **:)**


	7. April 27, 1973 continued

The Boy with the Purple Eyes

_April 27, 1973 continued:_

As I walked through the streets carrying the sleeping body of Toris Lorinaitis, I couldn't help but wonder what the other people were thinking. I must have looked strange, holding a half naked teen in my arms and walking down the streets as if it were a normal thing. My arms began to tire a block away from my complex but I kept going. When I finally made it into the apartment, I almost dropped the boy out of exhaustion. Fortunately for him, I made it all the way to the guest room where I placed him on the bed. I gave a sigh of relief that the heavy body was taken off my arms and covered the boy with a spare blanket I had. I needed to call my brother and the phone was in the other room, so I wrote Toris a note. I left it where he could find it when he woke up and then left the room. Grabbing Kumajirou from the pocket of my coat that Toris was still wearing, we traveled into the kitchen to get the phone.

I dialed my brother's phone number at the station and after three rings he picked it up. "Hello?" He said. "Hi brother!" I replied. He was stunned because his next line, something like "Gilbert!? Is that you?," sounded very surprised. I told him that it was me and that I had something for him, something important. He wanted to know what it was so I said "Only if I can have my job back," and he readily agreed. I explained to him the discovery I had made earlier this morning and that now, said discovery was sleeping in my guest room. Ludwig decided to come straight over, the only problem was that Feliciano had decided that my brother needed to file a few more cases before he left. I told my brother that it was ok and that it wouldn't have made a difference since Toris was still asleep. He agreed and told me to call him once the victim had regained consciousness. I said that I would, gave him a goodbye, and hung up.

With nothing else to do I decided to talk to Matthew's picture. I walked over and picked it up, watching how the candle light reflected upon the glass. I told Matthew that I was one step closer to finding him. That, hopefully with Toris' help, I'll be able to rescue him from where he was taken captive. I couldn't recall if I had ever said to him that Kumajirou was safe with me, so I did. I explained that we go everywhere together and that when I find him, Matthew, I'll have Kumajirou with me so that he could hug the white bear like he used to. I was so engrossed with my conversation that I didn't hear the light footsteps coming from bedroom. I heard a light gasp, and I turned around so fast that I almost dropped Matthew to the ground.

"I'm so sorry" he said softly and apologetically. I think I said something along the lines as "it's alright" or something other. I then wanted to know if he needed something to eat or drink. His reply was a simple "no." I remembered that I was supposed to call my brother to tell him that the boy had woken up. I told him to make himself comfortable on the couch while me and Kumajirou went to make a phone call. Five minutes after the phone call, there was a heavy pounding on my front door. I opened it and let my brother inside. He went up to Toris, introducing himself as the captain of the police department down the street. He explained to the boy that the department had been looking for him and that they needed his help to arrest the man responsible. He nodded his head and agreed to help in the investigation. "Good" my brother had said. Before my brother could start interrogating the poor boy, I interrupted and said that the boy needed to go to see a doctor first to fix his nose. Ludwig just stared at me with an incredulous look on his face. "I'll do it." He volunteered. He went towards Toris and instructed me to get a bunch of tissues. He took a hold of Toris' nose and cracked it back into place. The boy didn't scream but tears welled up in his eyes and a trickle of blood streamed from his nose. I handed him a wad of tissue and he dabbed lightly at the blood. My brother, happy that that was over, turned his attention back to question at hand. He wanted to know who had done this to Toris. The boy took a deep breath and began to tell his story.

Toris explained to us that on the day that he was kidnapped, he had been walking home, by himself he had added, from school. When he had gotten about two blocks away from the high school, he noticed that a small, black car was following him. At first Toris said that he thought that the driver of the car was lost and was only driving slow so that they could find the street they were looking for. When he had reached the intersection of Cherry and 7th, the car was still following him. He decided to run down 7th street, a residential street, to try to get away from his pursuer. As he ran up the street, he turned his head around and saw that the car was now speeding towards him. Toris then said that he tried to run faster but since he wasn't facing the direction he was going, he didn't see the large bump in the sidewalk. Tripping over the uneven slabs of concrete, he fell and landed hard on his head and that was all he could remember until he woke up in an unfamiliar room.

When he had regained consciousness, Toris described that he was in a large bedroom, stripped down to his boxers, and his hands and feet were chained to the bed post. He tried to escape but the ties were strong. As he was struggling, his kidnapper had come into the room. The man had seen his' futile attempt to escape and had laughed, successfully attracting his attention. The mysterious man then walked over towards the bed and sat on the corner near his' head. The man, Ivan, began picking up some strands of hair off of his, Toris', forehead. Ivan then began to whisper to himself and Toris explained that it was something to the like of "Almost like his. Almost."

Suddenly, he explained, Ivan began to beat him harshly. On the chest, the arms, the legs, everywhere. He didn't know what had ticked the older man off. As spontaneously as it had started, the beating stopped. Ivan then stood and pulled out a pair of hand cuffs from the nightstand next to the bed. Toris then explained that Ivan undid the ties around his arms and cuffed them in front of his body. Once his legs were free, Ivan instructed him to stand and to follow him. Out of fear, Toris said that he followed the man out of the bedroom and into another room, just down the hall.

This new room was set up like a darkroom for photography. Once the two of them were inside the room, Ivan proceeded to close the door. He then flipped a switch and the room was filled with red light. Toris said that he noticed that there were strings and strings of drying photos all through the room and on the walls. As he walked by some of them, he noticed that all the pictures had one similar element, a small boy. He then explained that Ivan had stopped in front of a table where some film was waiting to be developed. Thinking that he was free to wander, Toris said that he began to look at some of the pictures. He described to us that the pictures all had the same little, light haired child in it. In most of them, the boy had a sad, lonely expression and always had a white bear near him. He went on and said that the two of them stayed in the room for about two hours. Afterwards, Ivan dragged him upstairs and chained him to the bed. After that initial day, Toris said that they had gotten into a routine, he would remain chained to the bed in his only pair of underwear, while Ivan would disappear for hours on end. He would come back, smelling like vodka, drunken smiles on his face and he would rape him. Afterwards, Ivan would collapse on top of him, asleep. Once the week of hell was over, Toris said that he began to hatch a plan of escape.

Periodically, which was in reality every other day, Ivan would leave Toris unchained while he disappeared, but of course he would handcuff his arms together. Toris explained that he would look for the key around the house when Ivan was gone but he could never find it. Two days ago, he announced, he had found the key on top of the high dresser in the bedroom. He knocked it off by using a broom he had found, grabbing the handle between his cuffed hands and swinging his arms together side to side. Once the key fell, he said that he plopped down and picked up the key using his feet. He struggled to get the key into the lock but somehow he got it to go inside.

Once free, he ran to the door, cautiously looking to see if Ivan was home. He wasn't. Toris then explained that he ran out of the house, elated that he was once again free. He said that he ran down the street towards only to see the little black car turn the corner. Horror struck him and he said that he made a mad dash towards the opposite direction. The car came speeding towards him trying to block his way but Toris said that he kept running. When he was almost out of reach, he realized that he would have to cross the street since the street he was on made a sharp right turn. He said that he put his faith in God that he would survive and ran into the street. Ivan's car then hit him full on and he sailed through the air, falling with his arm stretched out hitting the ground first then his nose and face. By something short of a miracle, he was able to get up and keep running without any problem. He guessed that it was due to the adrenaline running in his veins. He hoped that Ivan wasn't following him, he had forgotten to check behind himself, but he didn't care. He explained that he ran all the way to the park where I had found him, found a nice place hidden from view so that Ivan couldn't find him and collapsed of exhaustion.

My brother and I stared at the boy. He had suffered through all that!? I was surprised that the boy wasn't dead because of the hit from the car. He smiled sheepishly at the two of us. My brother closed his open mouth and asked Toris if he would be so kind as to show us where the house was. He agreed and we all crammed into my brother's car.

Toris pointed out the way and we found ourselves on the intersection of 5th and Lemon, the very close to where Matthew. I then realized that the house was located on the path to the elementary school. This meant that both Alfred and Matthew would have to pass this house twice every day, after and before school. If Ivan truly did kidnap Matthew, he would have been able to watch him every day and get a feel for his schedule, when he would arrive, when he would leave, everything. I looked at the surroundings near the house, and noticed that his house was at the intersection of 5th and Lemon, and had a clear view to 5th and Cherry. This meant that from his house, Ivan could see down all of 5th until it disappeared. It all made sense now. If Ivan had kidnapped Matthew, he could have watched the boy and his brother walk to and from school every day and plan when he was going to kidnap the young boy. If he could time how long it took for Matthew to get to Cherry from the school he could figure out a time of interception. He must have figured the timing out because he was able to actually follow through with the kidnapping. He probably figured it out pretty quickly and was just waiting for the perfect chance when Matthew was alone. A few questions still remain though…how did he know when Matthew was walking? It's not like he could park anywhere. Unlike the intersection at 5th and Lemon, the Cherry and 5th intersection was part of a busy street…The other question was why? Why would you kidnap a little boy? Two in fact! Maybe this Ivan will tell us…

We decided that after Toris had shown us the house that we would drop him off at the local hospital. We wanted him to get looked at by a doctor. Once we got there, I ran to the nearest pay phone with him and we called his parents. He told them that he was ok and that he was with some police officers. I told him to tell them to come to the city hospital to get him. Once he was examined and checked into a room for the night, my brother and I told him that we had to leave and that we were sorry that we couldn't stay until his parents were there. He said that it was alright and gave us a smile as we left him, heading back to the station.

When we got there, my brother and I started to dig up information about this Ivan. My brother called the city for housing information to see if we could get anything from there about the man. I, on the other hand started to fill out requests for a search warrant and an arrest warrant. When the housing information came from the city, I sent the requests out with the messenger. By looking at the records from the city, we found out that Ivan was twenty three years of age, had two other siblings both girls, that he and his family had immigrated here in the early fifties, and that his full name was Ivan Braginski. I tried looking up his name in our catalogued names database but there were no Braginskis, which meant that this guy was clean, at least until now. At nine thirty pm, the messenger came back with our warrants. I was elated. I thought it would take forever for the court to verify them. This means that tomorrow, we'll be able to raid this son of a bitch's house, arrest him, and find out what he did to Matthew! I'm so excited!

Matthew! I hope that you're still here and haven't lost hope. Don't worry! We're almost there! You will be rescued! Just wait for a little bit longer!

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**I have to say, this chapter was frustrating to write. I couldn't get Toris' narration of what happened quite right and I still don't like how it came out...:( I think that the whole chapter's kind of confusing, the placement of things like the streets and the process of what happened. If you guys don't like the chapter I don't blame ya. It's bad**, **really bad. Please review if places seem awkward, I'll try to fix them and make them more clear.**

**On a different note, do you guys think that I should change the rating? I only put it on M because I thought that the subject of kidnapping is kind of sensitive. I don't know, if you want I'll lower it but ehhh...I'm not really sure...**

**Anyway, I have a really interesting chapter coming up and I want to see how you readers react to it, whether it's a good reaction or a bad one... ;)  
**


	8. April 28, 1973

The Boy with the Purple Eyes

_April 28, 1973_

This morning, I woke up at six a.m. but I didn't have to be down at the station until eight. I was too excited to sleep any longer. Today was the day I was finally going to be able to meet Matthew in person, rescue him from the evil clutches of his kidnapper, and make him feel loved and special enough that someone had wanted to save him from the horror that he had endured. Not to mention, I had to give him back his bear, who I think has been missing him since the day he was kidnapped. Speaking of his bear, I grabbed Kumajirou's paw, tucked him under my arm, and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. Once the pot was brewed and I had my morning energizer, I sat down at the kitchen table going over what the schedule was in my head. It went something like this:

8:00-Arrive at station, meet up with brother, make sure we had the warrants and the necessary number

of officers accompany us.

8:30-Depart for the house arrive probably five to ten minutes later but not entirely sure.

8:40-Arrest Mr. Ivan and take him in to questioning (Ludwig's job) Meanwhile, I go through the house

looking for evidence and any trace of Matthew, Toris, or others that Braginski could have

kidnapped.

4:00-(an estimate) time when we get back to the station (I highly doubt that we would be able to

process his house that fast but my brother likes having things run by a schedule…)

I doubt that everything will run according to this plan. There'll be some catch somewhere, something so bizarre that it will delay the whole process, I can feel it. But anyways, nothing could make me happier than actually seeing the child, no amount of delay or problem could reverse this. He's waited so long for someone to be his hero. Someone to save him from the hell his life had become, both at home and from the kidnapping. I wonder if it would be possible to take Matthew away from his family… From what I saw, they don't love him and they could probably care less if he was out of their hands. Nobody had even called to check up on the case, on how it was going. It was like they all forgot about his existence. I wonder…would it be possible for me to take him…? I got goose bumps and a shiver of excitement from the possibilities ran up my spine just thinking about it.

I glanced up at the clock that hung upon the wall above the sink. It read 7:30. "Wow," I thought to myself, "the time sure went by fast." I picked up Kumajirou and walked to the closet to get my huge detective's jacket. I placed Kumajirou into the large inner pocket, ready to greet his friend and owner when the time came. I exited the house and made my way to the station, thinking about the future that I could share with little Matthew.

It was exactly 8:05 when I reached the office and my brother came running out at me screaming "HOW COULD YOU BE LATE!?!!" I looked at my watch and told him to just calm down, that I wasn't that late. (My daydreaming had slowed me down a bit, it seems, normally it only takes me about twenty five to thirty minutes to walk down to the station.) By then Ludwig had calmed down enough so that his face wasn't as red anymore.

He then took me to meet the team who would be accompanying us, who were waiting in the break room. There were two other officers who would assist in the arresting while we had about ten scene analysis people (give or take a few) that would help me in gathering evidence. My brother was taking three other officers that would also join up with the two so that they could section off the house and keep random bystanders from disturbing the scene. After everyone was acquainted with each other, we all hopped into two squad cars and a large evidence analysis/collection/storage van. It didn't take too long to get to the house, there was no traffic. We didn't even have to use the sirens, which was good since we didn't want to disturb the neighborhood. After all, it was a Saturday morning and people wanted to sleep in, especially our target.

We parked the vehicles in front of his house, the two squad cars in front and the van in the back. My brother, wearing bullet proof armor underneath his jacket (why, I don't know. Toris never mentioned Ivan owning a gun but my brother had said that it was always good to be prepared.) took the two designated officers and went up to Braginski's door and knocked on it, warrant and handcuffs in hand. I followed the group up to the door and waited with them. At first there was no answer so my brother knocked again. After awhile, the door finally opened and a hung over looking man appeared in the door way.

I couldn't believe my eyes. It was the man from that day in the park, the one who helped me up, the one who I said had that evil look in his eyes. I was so shocked! When we pulled up information about him, there was no picture and Toris never really did describe what he looked like in his explanation of what happened. He looked nothing like that day in the park however. That day he was clean looking and didn't smell so much like vodka. The man I saw in the door way was hung over, dirty (like he hadn't showered in days) and was pretty confused.

My brother held up the arrest warrant, told Ivan to turn around, and hand cuffed him. As he led Ivan away he recited to him his Miranda rights placed him into the first squad car. Ludwig instructed one of the guards to watch the car and he came running up the drive way towards me. He told me that he was going to interrogate the son of a bitch and that he would be at the station if I had anything go wrong or what not. I nodded and told my brother to "give 'im hell." He smiled, nodded and went back to the squad car. I watched as he told both of the guards to get the other three and tape the boundaries of the property and that once they were done, they had to patrol, making sure to keep trespassers out. They nodded and he took off, Ivan in the back seat of the car, towards the station.

I honestly couldn't believe how easy it was to arrest Braginski, almost too easy, as if it were a sign…I entered the house with the other guys and told them to look for anything that would be of importance, things that looked like they could belong to a child or teenager. In the living room, we found a teen's backpack and after opening it we saw that it belonged to Toris, as did some other things around the house. In the master bedroom, we found some teen's clothes, more of Toris', and some shoes too small for Ivan, but nothing that would indicate that Matthew had been at the house. I grew increasingly anxious, wanting to know where Matthew was being kept, if he was here at all. Suddenly someone gave a call from down the hallway from where I stood.

I went running towards the room, hoping that the man had found the boy. Instead, I entered a different room, where pictures covered every inch of wall space. It was the dark room that Toris had told us about. I walked inside and examined some of the photographs near me. They all had the same little boy. I walked around, picture after picture, all of the same sad eyed, broken little boy. A line from the journal entry that I had read came back to me, "_I also hear these strange clicking sounds sometimes when I'm walking alone." _That's where the clicking noises he had heard came from, the camera, taking shots of him while he worked, played and did his daily activities. I stared at the pictures, taking some from off the wall while the others collected them, placing them into evidence bags. I examined them, my heart breaking at the expressions held upon the boy's face, loneliness, rejection, depression just to name a few. I gave the pictures to some guy who was collecting them. This was probably more than enough evidence to throw Ivan in jail for the rest of his life, or so I hoped. But the burning question still remained, where was Matthew?

It took four more hours to search through all the stuff in the house. Rooms like the garage, some of the closets, even the dark room, had so much stuff in it that it took forever to clear them out to look for evidence. Even after all those hours, Matthew was still nowhere to be found. I was frustrated and angry, why couldn't I find him? We had searched through the whole house! Where else could he be!? I walked through the house once more tracing back through all the hallways checking each door and room. Still, I found nothing. It was only after I had given up all hope that I noticed a piece of paper sticking out from underneath the wall where it touched the floorboards.

I had been walking back from the master bedroom when I had noticed it, right underneath a thermostat. But wait I thought to myself…didn't Ivan have a thermostat in the other room? His house was small enough to only need one… I bent down and tried to pick up the slip of paper when I realized that it was almost completely under the wall, except for that one corner…but how could that be? When you build a house you don't leave paper underneath walls. It had to mean something. I then rapped on the wall space above the paper and was greeted with a hollow sound. A door, I realized, a secret door…

End Part I

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**I'm so mean to you guys, but the cliffhanger is necessary! I have decided to do two different endings for this story and this is where it'll break off. I don't know if this'll spoil anything for anybody but yes, there will be two endings. The first ending will be the one I had originally planed, the second will be the one that will stem off of the lovely advice from _we've all got our junk_. Thank you so much for the idea! So, I'm thinking that by doing that, it'll add at maybe four more chapters, though I'm not that sure. So expect some hopefully interesting stuff to come up! And to all you who have favored, alerted, and reviewed! Thank you so much for the advice and words of praise! It always makes me happy to know that other people like my writing :D  
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	9. April 28, 1973 continued 1st Ending

The Boy with the Purple Eyes

_April 28, 1973 continued_

A door! I can't believe it! Who has a secret door in their house? And on a more important note, what could Ivan Braginski be hiding? I began to scratch at the wallpaper, looking for something, anything, that would open the door. Frustrated when I didn't find anything, I banged my fisted hand above the thermostat. Suddenly, I heard the sounds of gears moving behind the wall. I had to step back a little as the door slowly opened outwards, toward me. I moved towards the doorway and was about to look inside when I was greeted with a harsh, cold gust of wind and a dark staircase that descended down into the unknown bottom of the house. I looked down when I felt something hit my legs, and found that the paper that I had originally seen was a picture, moved by the cool breeze so that it had hit me. I picked it up and examined it noting that it was another photo of Matthew…"Why would that be here?" I thought to myself. I assumed that Ivan had brought it down here, but why? Why would you need to bring a picture down into this stairway when you can't see anything…?

I took a deep breath and decided to descend down into the inky abyss but before I did, I groped around on the other side of the doorway, onto the wall. Suddenly, my hand hit a switch and I flipped it. All of a sudden, the walls became dimly lit as old style hanging light bulbs became illuminated. The earthen walls and the lights somewhat reminded me of an old 1800's style mine. Once again, I looked down and began my walk. As I descended, I took note of how everything was made of earth, the stairs, the walls, everything. I came to the conclusion that Ivan had to be the one to do this, who else would have needed a secret chamber under his house? Suddenly, a bigger realization came to me, bigger that the one of Ivan making the tunnels by hand. It was the realization that Matthew was here, somewhere in this tunnel. The thought of Matthew being here pumped me up and I hurriedly ran down the stairs, reaching the bottom as fast and carefully as I could. Once there, I looked around and I faced two closed doors, which I assumed led to more rooms. I decided to go to the door on the right first.

I walked up to the door and tried to open it, finding that it was somewhat jammed. I wiggled the door a little and it began to move. Finally getting it to open, I was met with darkness. Once again, like up at the top of the stairs, I groped around the side walls on the other side of the door way. Finding the switch, I flipped it and was met with a horrible sight. Inside the fairly large chamber were cages, about three of them, and chains hanging from the wall. Torture devices, such as whips and other things, littered the walls, hanging here and there and some on the floor. I called out Matthew's name, hoping to hear something. It was no use. I was met only with the sound of the cold draft moving through the chamber and the tunnel.

I walked out of the first chamber and made my way towards the other door, unsure of what I would find. This time, the door showed no resistance and easily opened, as if someone had been here many times before…When I opened the door, bright fluorescent lights turned on by themselves revealing an astonishing white room and an even colder gust, colder than even the first chamber and the staircase, hit me. At first I was blinded by the intense switch from darkness to extreme brightness but once my vision returned I was flabbergasted. Pictures, thousands and thousands of pictures, covered the large room, the largest room I've seen in the investigation so far, all on top of each other creating a layered effect. All of the pictures were the same, all of Matthew, in different poses, different expressions, different places. It was almost bordering on obsessive, with the sheer number of pictures. I delicately stepped into the room, looking around the large cavern at the layers upon layers of pictures.

Suddenly, my eyes caught sight of a table like platform in the middle of the room. A white sheet lay upon it, covering a human shaped form. I gasped, not wanting what I thought to be true. I ran to the platform and grasped the corner of the sheet and closed my eyes, not wanting to see the result. Slowly, I peeled back the sheet a little and opened my eyes. What I saw made tears come to my eyes. There, lying on the table was the boy I had so desperately searched for. His face was calm and his eyes were closed, as if he had died in his sleep. His milky white skin was now just a pale and almost a shade of grey. I now realized why these rooms were so cold…It was for preservation of his body, so that _he_ could come back and stare, gawk upon Matthew and keep him as his own, almost like a trophy. I felt my knees give out and I collapsed to the floor, my head and arms falling to the table. I began to cry harder, tears of anger and sadness streaming faster, more intense, down my face. I couldn't stop. I don't think that I can even now.

Standing up, I wiped my face with my sleeve, and took the white sheet fully off Matthew's body. I laid it upon the ground, spreading it out flat. I then picked up his body and placed it gently onto the middle of the sheet. One last time, I looked at his peaceful face, a tear, dripping off my cheek, landed upon his angelic face. I pulled away, not wanting to burst back into uncontrollable tears. I grasped one side of the sheet, took it, and wrapped it around Matthew, tucking the edges in underneath him. I then took the other side and did the same, covering every inch of his skin, making him look a bit like a mummy. Once again, I picked up Matthew and placed him back upon the table.

I exited the room, and climbed back up the stairs to the main part of the house. I saw the other scene analysis people running around. One of them came up to me and said that we were leaving in a few minutes. "No," I said. "We're not leaving yet." He looked at me dumbfounded. I turned and walked away from him, going to the closest phone, which was in the kitchen. I picked it up and dialed my brother's number.

"Hello?" He had said. "Ludwig," my voice had cracked going a pitch or two higher, "I found him, I found Matthew." "What!?" He had said. "I found him. He's dead Ludwig. He's dead." I was on the verge of hysteria. "We can't transport him the normal way, he's partially frozen. The heat would destroy him." I was crying now and my brother could hear my sobs. "I'm coming Gilbert, I'm coming. Just hold on." He hung up and I slumped down to the floor crying into my arms.

My brother came shortly after, picking me up off the floor and patting my back, giving me a shoulder to cry on. Everything after the point felt like a blur, like I wasn't there but was at the same time. Somehow, we managed to transport Matthew's body over to the analysis lab, I couldn't remember how though. I went through the motions of the rest of the day like a droid, without a brain, unable to control my actions. Before I knew it, I was back at my apartment, courtesy of Ludwig, sitting on my couch staring off into nothing while Kumajirou sat by my side.

I felt so lost, so empty, so _useless._ I wanted to so desperately save him from everything, to take him as my own and love him unlike the others in his life. I wanted to give him a reason to fill his eyes with happiness and compassion instead of the loneliness and sadness that haunted them for so long. But I was too late…Too late to save the delicate soul of a flower, cut and killed before it was even able to bloom into something wonderful. I grabbed Kumajirou and cried, for the fourth time that night, into his fur.

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**Hello everybody! Well this is almost the end of the first ending, only one more chapter and don't worry, that one will be lighter than this heavyweight. After this one is done, I can get to the second ending which hopefully won't be that bad. Anyway, like I always do, thank you so much for the reviews! I love everyone. Since I get e-mail alerts on my phone, whenever I hear that little buzz that indicated a new e-mail (which is always a review, fave, or alert,) I get so excited and my school day gets a little brighter. I'm really sorry that I don't reply back to you guys, it's just that school work likes to kick my but. That's why these updates come so early in the morning...-.-' Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and it evoked some sort of emotional reaction**...** I hope...think...Remember! Please review! They make me happy! :D**


	10. April 28, 1974 1st Ending

The Boy with the Purple Eyes

_April 28, 1974_

It's been exactly one year since I started looking for Matthew, one year to the dot. As I look back through this journal, through every page and sentence, the details of the case come flooding back to me. Things like how I was so arrogant before I met Matthew, not thinking about how emotionally attached I would become to him and how everything about the boy drew me in, his past, his nature, his bear,…and his eyes…Especially his eyes which showed so much emotion, so much hurt and loneliness that I felt that I had to take him away and be his savior, came back.

Matthew's funeral was a week after I discovered him. In the days before, the coroner had to do tests to see how he had died and such, for evidence they had said. When the results came back to the station and my brother held them in his hands, I told him, in my sternest voice, "I do **not** want to know." If he had told me the angelic and perfect image I had of Matthew would be destroyed. When the funeral came around, I got a small card, the smallest one I could have seen, that told the date and location of where it would be. The date was set for May 5 at the local funeral chapel, right inside the cemetery where he would be buried. The card also came with a little schedule that went like this: first the viewing, then the service, then the burial and that was it. It would all take place in the span of about an hour and thirty minutes, which I thought was too short. The funeral itself wasn't even private…

I woke up that day, knowing that it was going to one of the hardest days that I would have to live through. I slowly climbed out of bed and made my way down the hall, still in my pajamas. Before I went into the kitchen, I opened my front door to get the newspaper. I already knew the location of the funeral, but I wanted to cut out the obituary anyway and place it by Matthew's picture. I flipped through the pages looking for the obituaries, which I found in the back few pages. Scanning the names, I couldn't find one that had Matthew's name on it, so I double checked. Nothing…How cruel could his family be? They should have put something, anything would have sufficed. Why wouldn't they do something for their dead son? Maybe I was asking too much, they were, after all, paying for the funeral, even though they acted like the boy was never alive in the first place. When I heard, I was quite surprised that they were paying for the funeral. I half expected that Ludwig and I were going to be the ones who were opening the wallets, which I wouldn't have minded…anything for Matthew.

After my anger and frustration had subsided, I put on my suit and tie and my fancy shoes and called my brother, who was going to give me a ride. Suddenly remembering, I ran up to the bedroom and grabbed Kumajirou from the bed. Together we went back into the living room, just in time too, because there was a loud knock at my door.

Together the two of us reached the cemetery and chapel. We followed the signs and reached the little place, walking in and seeing that almost nobody was here. I saw Francis and Arthur talking to each other in the corner, while Alfred ran around getting attention from some other people, who I assumed were family members. We signed the little black book in the front of the chapel by the door and walked toward the casket. Both Francis and Arthur noticed us and came to greet us. I paid no attention to what they said, I was still a little angry about the whole obituary thing. I quickly excused myself and left the group, walking over to the casket to see Matthew.

He was peaceful looking, like he was sleeping. His hands were folded on top of his chest and he was wearing some nice clothes. I looked at him laying there, his pain and loneliness gone at the sacrifice of his body. I felt a few tears start to trickle down my face. "Hey…" I said to him. "I know that you don't know me before but I spent almost two month looking for you. I wanted to save you…from everything. From all the pain that I could tell that you suffered through, all of it." At that I had to wipe the tears off my face with my sleeve. I continued after a few minutes. "Here," I placed Kumajirou into the casket next to Matthew's arm, "I know you missed him. He missed you too…but don't worry, I took real good care of him for you." I smiled but I couldn't hold it for long, as I broke down and started crying into my arm.

The funeral started a little after eleven a.m. There were a few more people, I'd have to say that there were probably thirty of us there. It was a nice funeral I guess, I had never been to one before so I have nothing to compare it to. There were lots of pictures shown and a few stories told by the family members, but it was as if they all danced around the truth. He was a forgotten child, and yet no one addressed the fact that they should have shown him more love. No one said anything about Matthew in a way that would show that they truly remembered him for himself, it was always about how Alfred would do something and how Matthew would react to it. It was horrible. I guess, even in death he will always be out shone by his brother, even at his own funeral. It made me angry and sad at the same time.

The burial was quick, in a little place under a shady willow tree by the pond that was in the cemetery. I have to say, for people who acted like they didn't care, his parents somehow got him a pristine place to be buried. I waited for everyone to be gone before I went up to the headstone. I kneeled down and placed my hand on the top of it. "Good bye, Matthew." I said to it. "I hope that you're happier than you could have ever been where ever you are." I got up and joined my brother who was waiting by the car. As we drove away, I looked out at the window, at the headstone and felt a few more stray tears run down my face, but instead of tears of sadness, they were tears of happiness, happiness that I gained knowing that Matthew, where ever he was, was probably happy. Still, after the funeral, after knowing that Matthew was happy, I couldn't move on.

It took until March of this year to get Braginski on trial. Apparently, the legal team had run into a few problems but they were all resolved. Like the funeral, my brother and I were invited to the hearing, which was surprisingly shown on national television. Toris testified, as well as the coroner who discovered what had killed Matthew (which I had tuned out), and a few other people. My video evidence as well as what I had found in Matthew's journal and all the pictures were also used as powerful evidence. To me, I believe that those pieces of evidence made it possible for Braginski to be put into jail for the kidnappings and the murder charge, and maybe Toris' testimony as well. It took about the whole month of March and up to two days ago for everything to be said to the jury. Afterwards, it took them a day to figure out their decisions. When they went in for their deliberations, I don't think that I have ever been so nervous in my whole life.

Yesterday was the day they made their decision, two counts of kidnapping for rape and sexual exploitation and one count of first degree murder. The people on our side of the courtroom exploded with joy, well mostly it was Toris' family. Matthew's family looked like they could have cared less…After I had cheered a bit, I looked over at Ivan to see what his reaction was. He looked just like he did throughout the trial, emotionless and uncaring. It was like his face was frozen into that terrible look. I wanted to run over there and kill him myself. When the time for punishment came, we all held our breath once more. The jury stated that they request the death penalty and the judge agreed. Ivan was to be put to death through lethal injection. When the court security came out and took him away, he smiled. I couldn't believe it! He smiled like it was the happiest day of his miserable life. It was as if he had planned to kill Matthew, or anybody as a matter of fact, just so that he could get the death penalty.

Ivan never did state why he had killed Matthew or even why he had kidnapped Toris, and I don't think that anyone will ever know. It'll be a secret that he'll take to the grave with him…It was refreshing to know that the man who killed a child, and a beautiful, innocent one at that, would be getting the death penalty. He would no longer have to walk this land and pose a threat to anyone anymore. I hope that his soul will rot in hell forever.

Last night I had the most strangest dream. I was awoken in the middle of the night by a light shaking of my shoulder. I sleepily cracked open my eyes and saw two large, purple eyes staring at me. The head that the eyes were connected to cocked to the left a little when he noticed that I was somewhat awake. I sat up a little in bed and noticed that my companion was floating a little above my bed. He smiled at me and handed me a bear that looked a little like Kumajirou. I took it and after some inspection, I noticed that it was Kumajirou. Shocked, I looked back at the little boy and pointed at the bear, unable able to say anything. He simply smiled at me and shook his head in a "yes" gesture. He then took my head and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. When he let go and I looked up at him, I saw him smile once more and slowly he began to disappear, right before my eyes. I blinked and he was gone. I collapsed and promptly fell back asleep, Kumajirou in my arms.

When I woke up this morning, I thought that my encounter with Matthew was a dream but when I looked down I saw Kumajirou there next to me. I swore that I had placed him in the casket when Matthew was buried…but if I had done that, why is he here? When I thought back to when he woke me up, I saw his smiling face beaming down at me. He _was_ happy, I realized, no more traces hurt or loneliness evident in his now sparkling purple eyes. I picked up Kumajirou, looking into his shining black eyes. Matthew sent him, gave him to me, because he didn't need Kumajirou for comfort anymore. He wanted me to have him so that I could move on and gain the comfort from Kumajirou as he did.

I have gained so much from my experience with Matthew. I learned how to love someone, how to care for another living person and yet within these passionate lessons, I saw the darker side of human nature. The coldness one could have towards another person and the unfeeling nature hidden within the heart of man. I will forget nothing about this case, nothing at all. Above all the rest however, I will never forget the boy who I came to know, the boy abused from the beginning till end but who is now happy and content, the boy with the purple eyes.

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**Stupid Document Manager...It bolded and made like the last five paragraphs into one huge one! Why did it do that!? Anyway, here's the end to the first ending. See, it wasn't that sad, I hope. I'll have to get started on the new ending though. I really don't like the last paragrah...but I wanted to end the story with the name of the title...oh well...Please read and review too!**


	11. April 28, 1973 continued 2nd Ending

The Boy with the Purple Eyes

**So, before we start the beginning of the second ending, I just want to tell you that the first two paragraphs are the same as the beginning of the first ending. Afterwards, it's different. So now that that's said, please enjoy the chapter!**

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_April 28, 1973 continued_

A door! I can't believe it! Who has a secret door in their house? And on a more important note, what could Ivan Braginski be hiding? I began to scratch at the wallpaper, looking for something, anything, that would open the door. Frustrated when I didn't find anything, I banged my fisted hand above the thermostat. Suddenly, I heard the sounds of gears moving behind the wall. I had to step back a little as the door slowly opened outwards, toward me. I moved towards the doorway and was about to look inside when I was greeted with a harsh, cold gust of wind and a dark staircase that descended down into the unknown bottom of the house. I looked down when I felt something hit my legs, and found that the paper that I had originally seen was a picture, moved by the cool breeze so that it had hit me. I picked it up and examined it noting that it was another photo of Matthew…"Why would that be here?" I thought to myself. I assumed that Ivan had brought it down here, but why? Why would you need to bring a picture down into this stairway when you can't see anything…?

I took a deep breath and decided to descend down into the inky abyss but before I did, I groped around on the other side of the doorway, onto the wall. Suddenly, my hand hit a switch and I flipped it. All of a sudden, the walls became dimly lit as old style hanging light bulbs became illuminated. The earthen walls and the lights somewhat reminded me of an old 1800's style mine. Once again, I looked down and began my walk. As I descended, I took note of how everything was made of earth, the stairs, the walls, everything. I came to the conclusion that Ivan had to be the one to do this, who else would have needed a secret chamber under his house? Suddenly, a bigger realization came to me, bigger that the one of Ivan making the tunnels by hand. It was the realization that Matthew was here, somewhere in this tunnel. The thought of Matthew being here pumped me up and I hurriedly ran down the stairs, reaching the bottom as fast and carefully as I could. Once there, I looked around and I faced two closed doors, which I assumed led to more rooms. I decided to go to the door on the left first.

The door easily opened as if someone had used it many times before. As I began to walk in, I was hit with a frigid gust of wind, much cooler than the cold air that was already present in the tunnel. Large fluorescent lights that hung on the ceiling flickered on by themselves and a huge, white, empty room was unveiled right before my eyes.

What caught me by surprise was not the size or color of the room but that half of the walls in it were covered in pictures, while the other half was not. The unfinished conditions of the walls unsettled me greatly for some reason. I walked closer to one that had pictures on it to examine what was on them that would make Ivan, the one who I supposed did this, want to cover the whole place with them. I gasped. They were all pictures of Matthew! Every single one of them on the wall in front of me had Matthew printed, in some form, on it. I ran to another covered wall to see who was on those pictures and I was once again met with Matthew's familiar face. "What was this place!?" I thought to myself. It was as if Ivan was making a shrine to the boy or something…

I was about to leave the room, when I noticed a platform like structure with a white sheet placed over it, in the middle of the room. I guess that I was so distracted with the pictures that I never noticed it. I began to walk over to it to check it out, curious to see what it was.

When I got closer to it I realized that it was, in fact, a platform. I lifted up the sheet and noticed that there was nothing there underneath it. Satisfied that the thing was only a table and not something deadly or strange, I folded up the sheet and placed it back onto the table. I then left the mysterious, cold, white room, feeling just a little curious as to why Ivan was working so hard on it.

I went to the other door and tried to open it. It was heavy and I was met with a lot of resistance. "Strange..." I thought. "The other door didn't give me this much trouble. Maybe he didn't use this room as often." Finally, after some heavy pushing and attempted shoving, the door gave way and swung inside. The temperature of the slight breeze that came out of the room was horribly cold, but not as cold as the first room. From the outside, the room was incredibly dark and musty smelling. I walked in and groped around the walls near the door for a light switch. Finding it, I flipped it on and was met with a horrible sight.

Torture devices such as clubs, whips, and breaking wheels were hung upon the walls as well as chains with cuffs attached to them. Also scattered throughout the room were steel bar cages that were large enough to put a human being in. Some of the cages were a bit smaller than the others but not by much. The room was indeed a scary sight and I desperately wondered why someone would have such a room.

As I started to look around, something dully yellow caught my eye. I ran over to one of the smaller cages and realized that I had found him. To my horror, it looked as if Matthew was barely breathing. His chest would only rise a little and it was so hard to believe that he was still actually alive. My eyes never left him as I tried desperately to get him out of the cage, taking note that he was covered in a small, shabby blanket that barely covered him and offered very little warmth. To keep himself warmer, Matthew had curled up into a ball underneath the blanket, making sure that only his hair was showing from underneath.

The cage wouldn't open and I suddenly realized that there was a lock on the door. I must have missed it in my rushed attempt to get Matthew out. Franticly, I looked around at the walls from where I was. I spotted the key ring by the door so I rushed up and snatched it, running back to get Matthew out of here. I fumbled the key a few times before I was able to unlock the lock and remove it from the door. Once the cage door was freed, I grabbed Matthew as carefully as I could and made a mad dash out of the secret corridor to the warmer parts of the house.

When I had reached the top of the stairs, I hustled into the master bedroom, placing Matthew on the bed. I took the dingy blanket off of him and saw that the poor boy had nothing but his underwear on. Many of Matthew's bones showed through his skin indicating to me that he had been starved, probably the whole time that he was here. His skin was pale blue and was puffy. He didn't respond when I called his name or shook his shoulder gently. When I tried to feel a pulse, I found that his was incredibly slow but when I felt for his actual heartbeat, it was incredibly fast. "Oh my God! I need to get him to hospital now!" I said out loud. I quickly found a comforter in the closet and wrapped Matthew up in it. Afterwards, I ran out of the room to the kitchen where the only phone was located.

I quickly dialed a number I knew by heart. "Come on! Come ON!" I yelled as the phone kept ringing. Finally, I heard a voice on the other end. "Hello?" When I heard the voice I almost shouted with joy. Remembering Matthew, I practically yelled into the mouth piece "Ludwig, hurry up and get here! We need to take Matthew to the hospital!" "What?" Was his reply. "Why didn't you call an ambulance?" Confusion dripped in his statement. I told him to never mind that and to hurry up, Matthew needed help badly.

Ludwig arrived about three minutes later but by that time I already had Matthew in my arms, waiting for him to pick us up. With the sirens blazing, we drove as fast as we could to the nearest hospital. When we arrived, Ludwig dropped me off in the front and I ran inside, all the while trying not to hurt the kid sized bundle in my arms.

When I reached the front desk, I demanded that a doctor see Matthew now. The lady at the counter gave me a look that said "I really don't care" and I flipped. I began yelling at her and starting a huge commotion that a few doctors came out, all asking about what was going on. I ran up to them and told them that Matthew needed urgent help immediately and when they didn't believe me, I unwrapped a little of the boy so that they could see his horrible situation.

Stunned by the condition of the boy, the three doctors rushed us into a vacant room and instructed me to place Matthew down so that they could see him. When I unwrapped him, I was relieved that the boy was still breathing. It had been at least twenty minutes since I had found him and I had worried that he was already gone. They quickly examined him and concluded that he was suffering from severe hypothermia and malnutrition (if that one wasn't obvious).

The three doctors then ran out two of them heading to the right while the other to the left. The one who went left arrived back first and fitted Matthew with a mask that covered his mouth and nose. The doctor explained that it supplied him with warm humidified air that would warm his temperature. The other two arrived soon after with a couple IVs. They quickly hooked them up to the boy, explaining to me that like the air, some of the IVs were warmed and were irrigating his body cavity. The other IVs, they said, were supplying him with the nutrients to help with his malnourished state. The doctors then explained that Matthew was in a stupor and it was very likely that he would never wake up and die. I gave them a harsh glare and told them not to say that. They shrugged their shoulders, then said that only time would tell if or when Matthew would wake up and then they left.

My brother ran into the room shortly after the doctors had left. He stood behind me and placed an arm over my back saying "He'll be fine Gilbert. We just have to give him time." I nodded and took his words to heart, but honestly, I felt a small notion of doubt that Matthew would make it. I didn't want to believe it though, I wanted to believe that he was going to be able to pull out of it.

After about ten minutes, a nurse came into the room. She spotted us and made us leave, saying that the patient needed rest and that he shouldn't be bothered. Before we exited, I pulled Kumajirou out of my coat pocket where he had been hiding. I placed him next to Matthew's arm, close to his body and whispered in his ear, "I know you missed him so I brought him for you." It was then that I saw the slightest response from Matthew, a slight twitch of the corner of his mouth as if he were trying to smile a thank you. At that moment, I knew that Matthew was going to be fine.

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**Hello everyone!**** I hope that the chapter turned out ok, I was really tired today. When I first started writing it, I fell asleep so you know, there may be mistakes. Moving on..****.****This is the second to last chapter of the whole story! :( It makes me kinda sad to know that it's ending but I have a surprise for you, that is, if you want it...I'll tell you about it next time though. Anyways, I hope I got some of that hypothermia stuff correct, I only used wikipedia for a reference and they didn't have much so...yeah...Sorry that I didn't update yesterday, stats homework was killing me, but I was surprised that I managed to upload the first chapter of **_The Monkey's Paw._** It's probably because I sacrificed reading** _Heart of Darkness_ **to write it...like today...:D Please tune in soon for the last chapter of **_The Boy with the Purple Eyes._

**P.S. Don't forget to drop a review! :)**


	12. April 28, 1974 2nd ending

The Boy with the Purple Eyes

_April 28, 1974_

It's been one year since I was put on the case of the missing boy with purple eyes. I guess I would have to say that the good part of the past year was actually finally finding him after an agonizing two months of searching, giving up and then saving him…I had lost this poor journal but after locating it, I realized that I needed to add an ending, after all, the last entry I had in here was when Matthew was still in the hospital. It would only be fair to give the tale an ending, since it chronicles the whole ordeal.

Let's see, I might as well start where the last entry left off. It took Matthew one week total to recover from his hypothermia...three days to wake up from his stupor and the rest for the doctors monitor and clear him to go home…I would have to say that his time at the hospital was one of the most stressful collection of days I have ever lived through.

During his time at the hospital, I visited Matthew every day. While he lay there, unaware of the world around him, I would talk to him…I guess I got that idea from those stories that you hear of people talking to their comatose loved ones, how they can hear you but can't respond. I would tell him about how my day was and that I want him to wake up so that I can see and talk with him. For the three days that he was asleep, I would also sit there by his side and pray that he would wake up. There is a God because he heard my prayers and woke Matthew up. He had defied what the doctors had said and was fine. Well…maybe fine wasn't entirely the right word to use at first...

I wasn't there at the hospital when Matthew opened his eyes, but when I arrived at the hospital that afternoon to visit, the doctors wouldn't let me see him. They said that he was experiencing "some psychological difficulties" and wouldn't let anyone near him. Sometimes though, they said, he would allow a nurse to come closer to give him water or something, but it would have to be a female nurse, he would push away from any male person.

I didn't really care about what the doctor's were telling me and I ended up barging into Matthew's room anyway. I think I scared him…When I opened the door and came storming in, he had whipped his head around and faced me. His large purple eyes were filled with fear and he began to make tiny whimpering sounds, shaking all the while. I think that he thought I was Ivan and that I was going to hurt him. I walked up closer to him, saying soothing things and trying to calm him down. When I got closer to him he tried to move farther away from me on the bed. I sat down in the visitor's chair that was next to his bed, still talking to him. I noticed that he was still staring at me, fear and distrust still in his eyes but there was also a little glimmer of recognition. He grabbed Kumajirou, who was sitting near him on the bed, and brought him close to his chest, the head of the bear reaching his face.

Matthew then did one of the strangest things I have ever seen…he deeply inhaled the scent of his bear. His action was so odd…His eyes suddenly shot open and he stared at me. He reached out and tried to take my hand. When I realized what he was trying to do, I placed my hand into his tinier ones. He took it and smelled my sleeve. When he looked back at me, his eyes no longer held the look of fear and distrust, but one of acknowledgment. I guess he recognized my scent on Kumajirou…I did have him for two months and took him everywhere I went. He pulled on my hand, like he wanted something, so I asked him. He patted the space next to him on the bed and looked up at me with his large, violet eyes. I had to comply with those big purple orbs. That's where the doctors found me, on top of Matthew's bed, him curled up by my side, relaxed and asleep.

When I look back on that time, I realized that Matthew's family never visited him. I never saw Arthur, Francis, or Alfred. It was as if the rest of the family made a conscious effort to ignore their other member. It made me furious and disappointed that his own family would refuse to visit him in his time of need.

Once Matthew was deemed well by the doctors and was able to get out of bed, a few social workers from the child protection agency had come in to visit the boy. On their first visit Matthew noticed them and started to hide himself within the jacket I had been wearing. Somehow, he had become very attached to me and I was the only male figure he would let get near him. This meant that I could spend a great deal of time with him which in turn led to me being able to pick up on when Matthew was feeling distressed, happy, or any other feeling. From the signals that he was sending out, these people made him incredibly nervous. I could tell because of the way he reacted, holding closer to me and hiding himself away from those who scared him.

The social workers had come in and spoke to Matthew and myself. They said that they were taking the boy away and were placing him into foster care. They had looked into his family situation and realized that he was being psychologically abused by his parents and brother. The child protection agency then decided to place Matthew into foster care. I looked at the workers, shocked and worried. I wanted to take care of Matthew! If they placed him into foster care, anyone could have him and I would never see him again. I told the officers that I would take the boy to their office and have everything worked out.

I won't really go into detail, but let's just say that in December of 1973, Matthew officially became part of my family. It was one of the best days of our lives together.

What else is there to discuss of the last year…Oh! I know. Matthew had to be placed into therapy for what psychologists call complex post traumatic stress disorder and neurosis. He also suffered from muteness. The psychologist that Matthew was assigned to said that his CPTSD and his muteness stemmed from the traumatic experiences he had when he was kidnapped as well as some of his abuse at home while his neurosis came mainly from his abusive home. Even though Matthew is doing well now, he's still in therapy. He still suffers from some gaslighting (when false information is presented to a victim, making them doubt their own memory and perception), thinking that he is invisible and unloved, but we're working on it. His neurosis is also getting better; he's a little less detached and is learning to be more open with his feelings. He is also no longer mute, which makes me happy because I can hear his little angelic voice all the time now instead of asking him yes or no questions like before.

It's now April of 1974 and Matthew and I are at Ivan's trial. The prosecution used all of the evidence I found, the journal, the videos, the pictures, as well as some testimony. While I wasn't surprised that Toris testified, I was when Matthew did. I never would have expected him to be able to do it. Through all that he has gone through, the therapy, his stay in the hospital, and all the other things this year, I'm so proud that he was able to do this.

When Matthew went to testify, all eyes were on him. He retold what had happened and what he had to live through. When he was through, almost everyone was in tears, the jury, the people in the audience, everyone. Well, I shouldn't say everyone…When I looked at Ivan, he had the creepiest smile on his face and it was directed towards Matthew the whole time he was speaking. For a while I was scared for Matthew. I was worried that Ivan would try to do something drastic towards MY son. I didn't know what it would be but he made me nervous.

After Matthew testified, the prosecutors and the defendant's lawyers did their closing statements. The jury went in shortly afterwards and were gone for only a few hours. I sat there, nervous and scared for the outcome while Matthew sat there holding my hand. He would look up at me periodically and smile. When the jury came back in and announced their decision, guilty in all accounts, the courtroom exploded in joy. Matthew and I jumped up and yelled in happiness, hugging each other and I swung him in circles while he held my neck. It was the best day of our lives.

After the trial and sentencing, death by lethal injection, we went out to have some quality time together, just the two of us so that we could bond. When I look back, I think that everything we've been through, what Matthew's been through has created a special bond between us and strengthened it. Our relationship is only beginning though, and I believe that we'll be able to create something together in the future.

~End~

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**YAY! It's the end of this lovely little story! THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU for 100 reviews! As a reward, I made you guys some thank you art. It's here at my deviant art page, just go to my fanfiction profile adn click on home page. It's the first picture. ****I'm sorry if it's a little depressing but I hope that you'll like it.**

** Anyway, I'm sorry if the ending wasn't as good as it could have been but there is a reason why...After a little thinking, I have decided to do a little sequel thing**. **Basically, it will go into the year between the date when Matthew was found up until Ivan's trial. It'll have everything that wasn't gone into detail in this chapter, Matthew and Gilbert strengthening their bond, Matthew being adopted, etc so I hope that you'll look forward to it. The story will be called **_Learning to Love and Be Loved. _**It might not get started though until **_The Monkey's Paw _**is over and when I update **_A Secret Hidden from You_** a few more times. If I remember, I'll post up a link to it on the Hetalia Livejournal thing and on the Prussia/Canada fandom. If you're interested, just keep your eyes out...**

**Oh yeah! I would be eternally grateful if people could help me with the psychology part like with information on neurosis, complex post traumatic stress disorder and cures for all that. My information only comes from Wikipedia so it's limited so it would really help the new story :D**

** Thank you guys so much for reading this story, you've all made me one happy person!**

~Ninjatomomi


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